


Hey baby I'm talking to you

by icywind



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Amputee Bucky Barnes, Hooker AU, M/M, NGL there isn't much plot to this, it all works out in the end, meet grumpy rather than meet cute
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2017-12-20
Packaged: 2019-02-17 13:44:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13078098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icywind/pseuds/icywind
Summary: After a bad group session Bucky ends up driving blindly for a while before accidentally parking on the street Clint works. The conversation is strange and nothing happens, but it leaves Bucky feeling better than therapy did so he keeps returning and hiring Clint. It’s the easiest interactions he’s had since his accident, and when they get to the point of having sex he can’t deny it’s nice getting off.Of course he ends up doing what he’s not supposed to and falls for Clint.





	Hey baby I'm talking to you

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [fox](https://foxprints.tumblr.com/) for the quick beta and [dapperanachronism](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dapperanachronism/pseuds/dapperanachronism) for an earlier look over/sounding board. You guys are awesome.
> 
> Title courtesy of Heart's "Never"

  

  

“Hey Baby, can I help you with something?” A voice asked, smooth and practiced and Bucky wasn’t sure if he should be jumping a little in startlement (he did) or growling at the presumptuous interjection.

“Do I look like I need help?" he growled, head still bowed, not really looking towards the window.

“Kinda, yeah…” the voice replied, measured this time. “You uh, you do know which part of town you’re in, right?”

Bucky finally glanced over and his initial retort died on his lips. The guy was kinda cute in a rough way. “Do I look lost?” he finally gritted out, though it was softer than he’d initially planned on speaking.

“A little, yeah.” The guy replied. “Unless you’re wanting to play that Whose Line questions game of course then, a little, yeah?” He grinned at his own joke. “You know, I could he-”

“I don’t need a fucking trick.” Bucky spat and the guy didn’t flinch but Bucky had a hunch it was a near thing from the way his shoulders sat.

“Not offering that at the moment, though I’d beg to differ - just saying,” The guy spread his hands in a placating manner. “Was offering to uh...well, offer directions, actually.”

“I know my way around.”

“Of course you do.”

“And my phone has GPS.”

“Sure. Most do.”

“...what did you mean?” Bucky raised his face to look at the guy again.

“Giving directions?” His face screwed up rather comically.

“No the uh...the whole…” he waved his hand.

“You seem a little tense is all.” The guy replied.

“I do?”

“Hey, uh...if we’re going to have any sorta chat could I maybe warm up a bit? No pressure, I mean, I could-”

“Shit. It is cold, isn’t it?” Bucky’d had the window down for that very reason after all - cold air to keep him grounded after a shittty group session. He flipped the switch without thinking about it and the guy slipped in with a quick smile, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

“Thanks,” the guy said after a moment of silence, another brief smile quirking his lips. Bucky couldn't recall seeing someone smile so much. Certainly not lately at any rate.

“You don’t have gloves?” Bucky asked and yeah - not sure where that came from.

“I did but…” the guy shrugged. He had on a jacket that, while it looked good on him, certainly wasn’t going to be warm enough very soon - even if the milder weather returned.

“Lost ‘em?” he asked and the guy shrugged.

“Something like that.”

‘Something like that’ wasn’t a great answer but Bucky tried not to think about what it might mean too much as he shifted, which made the guy tense up, as he popped open the console between them. The guy relaxed again when all Bucky did was grab a pair of spare gloves.

“Um…” The guy didn't accept the gloves immediately.

“I’ve got more at home. Also…” and here it was, the elephant in his life. He turned in the seat so the man could see him lift what remained of his left arm. Which, it didn't mean he could suddenly no longer wear his gloves or anything but he had found that people did things for him when he played the amputee card.

“Oh shit man - sorry. Recent?” Bucky nodded and handed over the gloves. “Fucking sucks.” The guy said, fingers idly stroking the material of the gloves.

“They’re not like the greatest ever - a little old - but they’re solid and certainly better than nothing or even the crappy ones you can get for a few bucks at the CVS,” Bucky said, nodding at the gloves and hoping the guy got the message and stopped talking about his (lack of) arm.

“Cool, and uh...thanks.” The guy said again, nodding. They sat in a surprisingly comfortable silence for a while before the guy eventually cleared his throat. “So um - did you?”

“I look tense.” Bucky let out a noise that was supposed to be a chuckle but sounded a little like a bark and growl. “You can tell I haven’t been laid in a while huh?”

“Well I did mean the directions just then, but...kinda.” Bucky raised a brow. “It’s a certain tension in your body - I’m pretty good at reading people.”

“Makes sense,” Bucky said with a sigh, bringing his hand to his forehead briefly before shaking his head.

“S’okay man. Happens to the best of us. Dry spells.” The guy elaborated with a grin.

Dry spell. Sure, you could call it that. Or you could call it what it was which was Bucky's complete inability to trust anyone anymore. How he didn't want people to get too close. How he really didn't like being touched.

“It’s cool though - we don’t have to do anything. Nice to just have a moment and warm up.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” the guy nodded. “My line of work, not much conversation you know? Not a lot of time to just kinda sit and be. Or chat super-awkwardly with a hot guy.”

Bucky laughed at that. Honest to goodness laughed out loud (when was the last time that happened and how had he forgotten how good it felt?)

“There we go, there’s some easing of tension,” the guy said, sounding, if Bucky wasn’t mistaken, pleased.

“Thank you.” Bucky said, sharing a look with the man. “I can’t remember the last time I laughed like that.”

“Then my work here is done,” the guy said, his smile making another appearance.

Meanwhile, Bucky found himself fighting a disappointed frown and couldn’t stop the small “oh” from slipping out. Which...okay, weird. Why was he disappointed about this ending? “Well, I guess I should let you get back to uh work huh?”

“Back to the old grind,” The guy made a completely ridiculous 'here we go' gesture with his arm that Bucky found charming as hell. 

“Can I...can I offer you anything?” Bucky asked through his smile.

“You already gave me gloves so I think we’re good,” the guy replied, reaching for the handle and then getting out of the car. He shut the door and turned around to lean on it again. “Name’s Clint, by the way.”

“James,” he replied, because it was true even if he didn’t use it much - something flitted through his mind about giving your real name to hookers and the like. James might be his real name, but he’d been going by Bucky for as long as he could remember. It felt like a happy medium in this instance. He didn't want to lie to Clint, but did he want him to know his name?

“James,” the guy said and huh...he’d never quite enjoyed the sound of his name like that before. It made him wonder how ‘Bucky’ would sound falling from the guy’s lips. “I hope your night continues to look up.”

  

~~

  

The following week Bucky found himself driving a vaguely familiar route until he pulled up to a more familiar corner. A blonde haired man turned at the sound of his car and he watched as Clint's face went from neutral to pleasantly surprised.

“Are you lost, hot stuff?” Clint asked, leaning against the door and grinning at Bucky.

“I seem to be having some problems with the GPS on my phone.”

“Is that so? As it turns out I'm pretty good with phones and directions.” Clint waited to hear the click of the doors unlocking and then let himself in. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Just couldn't stay away I guess.”

“I do have that effect on people,” Clint said and Bucky laughed. “So – group didn't go okay huh?”

“How did you know?”

“Good at reading people, remember? And, well, stands to reason that you have group the same day of the week every week.”

Just as it had the week before, Clint's perceptiveness surprised Bucky and just as he had the week before Bucky found himself shooting the shit with the other man and enjoying it immensely. Unlike the week before though, Bucky went into this meeting with a plan. He'd recalled the fact that Clint had been wearing a nice, if a little light, jacket. Now Bucky had a few jackets and having lost an arm didn't mean that he couldn't wear them still – it just meant they didn't fit him as well.

That fact only really bothered him with one of his leather jackets, which just didn't look half as good on him with one arm hanging limp and empty to the side. It took more than a little coaxing on his part but he had to admit it was well worth it to see Clint striding off at the end of their talk in that leather coat. It looked amazing on him.

  

~~

  

“Even though I accepted the gloves and the jacket, I didn't think you saw me as a charity case you know,” Clint said a few days later as he got into Bucky's car. It was almost as if he'd been waiting for him. “But then I found this in the pocket.”

“I don't see you that way.” Bucky said and Clint's expression said ‘then explain this’ as he waggled the envelope of money. “I just...” he sighed. “It's stupid. It's really stupid, but talking to you...it's been nice. And I don't have a lot of nice in my life.”

“And I thought we had a silent agreement that the clothes were payment for my time.” Clint said, though his expression had softened at Bucky's admission.

“We did but...” Bucky opened his mouth but closed it with a shake of his head before saying anything else. Because how did he explain what he had done without sounding like a bleeding heart trying to save Clint? How did he explain his stupid shitty life?

“I wanted to do more? I-” He didn't know if he wanted to bang his head backwards against the headrest in frustration or let it fall forward in defeat.

“If the next words outta that pretty mouth are 'you wanted to save me-’”

“I'm selfish and stupid,” Bucky ended up saying. “My life is a god damn train wreck and I really like talking to you and fuck if I could ask to pay you for that.” And that sounded a little angry but all that anger was directed at himself, not Clint. He just didn't know if Clint knew that.

“Hey,” and Clint's voice was soft somehow and he telegraphed the hand reaching out towards Bucky much more plainly than he needed to. Like he knew Bucky would be weird about touching. It was perhaps the only reason he didn't flinch when Clint's hand reached his thigh. “We can talk, that's no big.”

“You talking to me means you miss out on paying customers.”

“Which explains the money.” Bucky nodded, a painful jerk of his head, and he felt Clint's hand stroke against his thigh to soothe. It didn't feel weird or make him uncomfortable.

“Not many people want to just talk to me, you know. I mean I've heard it happening a few times, like some weird psychotherapy session or something, but I've never been picked for it.”

“Maybe it's your curbside manner,” Bucky managed and Clint laughed at that, a nice throaty sound.

“Never really gotten any complaints.” Clint replied and Bucky could hear the eyebrow waggle and was almost disappointed when Clint pulled his hand back. “You mentioned you're already in group?”

“And I've got a shrink,” Bucky said tiredly. “Nothing's working though. Talking to them just makes me feel angry or like shit.”

“And talking to me helps?” There was a note of incredulity to Clint's voice.

“Fuck if I know why, but, yeah.” He flicked his eyes towards Clint and added a “No offense,” that Clint seemed to shrug off.

“Maybe 'cause I don't expect anything from you?”

“Maybe,” Bucky hedged. They were very nearly edging into territory he didn't really want to cover. He didn't want to look too closely at anything. He didn't want to analyze shit either. He just wanted to feel a little bit of normal again.

Talking to Clint made him feel like that.

“Well,” and the way Clint let the word pull long and linger made Bucky wonder if he was picking up on his changing mood. “Nothing says you have to pay me just for sex or just for talking.”

“Yeah?” Bucky tilted his head to look at Clint.

“Yeah. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want.” He said it quietly, almost like he was thinking out loud.

“You been with anyone since?” Clint asked and Bucky let his bitter laugh answer the question. “I'm not saying an orgasm is going to fix anything but-”

“But it couldn't hurt?” Clint shrugged at him and he shook his head. “I don't know man...”

“Hey hey – no pressure, none whatsoever, I'm not into that and you say no, we go with no.”

“I do like guys,” Bucky blurted out and it felt like his ears might have gone red at that.

“Awesome,” Clint replied, blowing right past Bucky's awkward. “Whenever you're ready, if you want, you get one free blow job from yours truly okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“The money you left in this envelope is more than enough to cover the two times we talked and today. It’s the least I can do and uh - I don’t know if I can feel okay taking the money without offering you something.”

“You said whatever I want.”

“I did, I did,” Clint agreed. “But I’m going to have to insist on this one. It’s...well I guess you could say it’s the only way for me to feel like I’m not swindling you.”

“I think I can see that.” Bucky said. He didn’t want Clint to feel horrible for anything he himself had done. And it had been a very very long time since anyone had touched him. Hell, it had been a long time since he’d touched himself. It wasn’t that bad of an idea. Clint was a professional after all. He wouldn’t be weirded out by Bucky’s quirks, or at least he wouldn’t say anything if he was. And, with this type of encounter, he wouldn’t have to take off any clothing which was where most of his quirks came into play anyway.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Let’s do it.”

“Now?

“Did you want me to wait?”

“No no, that’s fine,” Clint replied, head cocked a little to the side as if he was trying to read Bucky. “I just didn’t think you were ready for it yet.”

“Well I am ready,” Bucky said with a stubborn jut of his chin. “I want my blow job.”

“Alright, okay let’s uh - let’s find ourselves a nice secluded spot then.” Bucky wasn’t certain, maybe he was being super self-conscious, but it seemed like Clint was humoring him. Still, he directed him to an alley not far away that Bucky pulled into before shutting the car off. The silence with the engine off was nearly deafening and he swallowed hard against his sudden tension.

“I won’t be offended or anything if you need to back out you know,” Clint said softly.

“I’m good,” Bucky replied with another nervous exhale. “It’s just been a while.”

“Well then, I promise I’ll make it a good one.” The wink Clint gave should have been ridiculous and it was a little, but it made Bucky huff a little laugh and the tension drained away. It didn’t last long however as he found himself tensing ever so slightly when Clint laid a palm on his leg.

“Hey, easy, easy, just relax, just relax,” Clint murmured, easing his palm up and down Bucky's thigh. And Bucky tried, he really did, breathing in through his nose and out through his mouth. He laughed a little nervously when Clint brushed a few fingers over his cock on one up and down stroke and Clint murmured something he couldn’t quite make out.

“Can you - can you maybe talk a bit? Until things get going?”

“I can do whatever you want,” Clint replied, stroking him more firmly. “That’s it, that’s it....easy...easy… you’re going to relax for me, aren’t you James? Relax, relax… Relax except for that delicious kind of tension right here.” He gave Bucky’s cock a squeeze through his jeans and he was nearly startled to realize he was already half-hard and his eyes had been slipping shut.

“Gonna give you some relief now, okay? Gonna open that fly and ease you out…” Nimble fingers popped the button and pulled the zip down. “Lift those hips baby, gimme more room to work.”

“I think,” And huh, his voice sounded a little different, “I don’t want any lines.” Bucky said, though he complied, letting Clint pull his jeans off so he could get to his boxers more easily.

“No lines, okay and oh...fuck you’ve got a nice cock.” There was a certain note to Clint’s voice and Bucky felt his face warm even as he got annoyed.

“I thought I said no lines.”

“I say whatever it is the guy or girl is looking for. What they want or need to hear. Usually it's along the lines of “oh baby you're so big” which is ridiculous but,” Clint shrugged, it was part of the job.

“And wh-” Bucky swallowed. “What am I looking for?”

“The truth.” Clint didn't even hesitate. “And the truth is you have a very nice cock.”

A blush stole over his face like fire and Bucky wasn't sure if he should be mortified or turned on by what Clint had said. His eyes closed again and he breathed through his mouth as Clint turned his attention back to Bucky’s cock.

“Look at that, so eager already, can’t wait to get my mouth on you.” He felt Clint smear some pre-come down the shaft and begin to slowly jack him off.

And then, between one moment and the next, Bucky felt himself engulfed by warm wet heat. “Oh, fuck me,” he said with feeling, eyes snapping open so he could look down on Clint’s blonde head, bobbing up and down industriously. His hand was hovering in the air, uncertain where to land. Should he keep it on Clint’s back? Could he touch his neck? The back of his head? Tangle his fingers in Clint’s hair?

“You can touch my head, but please don’t hold me down or try to fuck up into my mouth while holding me still,” Clint said, surfacing with a wet pop as Bucky’s cock sprang free of his lips.

“Okay,” he breathed, letting out another moan when Clint returned to the task at hand, Bucky’s hand resting lightly against his neck.

So good. He felt so fucking good. Good God, had blow jobs always been this amazing? Had it been too long since he’d had one?

How long would he have to wait to have another?

It didn’t last all that long really. It had been too long for Bucky and he was ready to pop embarrassingly quickly. He had the presence of mind to tap on Clint’s neck and Clint took a breath and slid down, swallowing around his cock and that was it, Bucky was gone.

The next thing he knew Clint was tying off the condom and tucking it away in a bag to be tossed later, wiping Bucky down and tucking him back into his boxers and helping him get his jeans back on and done up.

“I um...I…” Bucky blushed and stammered and man, he had to seem like an idiot after his first time. “Thanks? Is it - can I say thanks?”

“You’re welcome,” Clint’s smile was soft. “Anytime. And I mean that.”

They didn’t really say anything else as Bucky drove back to Clint’s street where he let him out of the car and watched as he sauntered away.

Anytime.

For a price.

  

~~

  

After that first time it became easier. Bucky saw Clint about twice a week or so. Some weeks it was only once, others three times, and one very bad week he saw him four times. And every time they met they talked. About everything and nothing and Bucky...Bucky was starting to feel more normal in a way that months of therapy hadn't begun to scratch the surface of. Clint told him he just needed a better shrink and he meant to look into it, he really did, but it got away from him and everything about his insurance was such a pain.

Plus, there was a small part of him that was a little afraid that if he found a better shrink he wouldn’t have to go see Clint anymore and, little part or not, he wasn’t ready to face how much he didn’t like the idea of not seeing Clint anymore. The orgasms were essentially a bonus at this point, not to discount how amazing they were (the things Clint could do with his mouth and his hands…some days Bucky was half-hard just pulling in and waiting for him) but talking to Clint was really the main attraction.

It didn’t mean that Bucky didn’t want more eventually of course, and he broached the subject with his usual awkward bluntness.

“Is there a wa--can we fuck sometime?”

“Oh baby, with such sweet talk how could I resist?” Clint deadpanned, fluttering his eyelashes in the most ridiculous way. Bucky smiled through the heat of his embarrassment.

“I want to fuck sometime,” he said, amazed by how sure he actually managed to sound.

“We can do that, though I promise it's a helluva lot better if we get a room than it is in a car. Nostalgia for High School doesn't really pan out.”

And so, Bucky ended up driving them to a motel not terribly far away but a little further than the one Clint had suggested. He didn't mind paying for a room even though they wouldn't need it all night and while he wouldn't call the other place seedy by any stretch, he just preferred and felt that Clint deserved something a little better.

They'd spent a while already talking in the car, so he wasn't surprised when Clint told him to make himself comfortable on the bed and didn't waste much time and began stripping down, making light commentary the entire time. He was...gorgeous really, and Bucky said so with his stumbling words, wishing he could be a little suave, a little like he used to be Before.

“I'm gonna ride that beautiful cock of yours if that's alright,” Clint said, eyes hooded as he reached around and prepped himself.

“I...I...that's fine...” Bucky replied, face heating and feeling a little upset with himself because he wanted to tell Clint how amazing he looked. How much Bucky wanted to be the one prepping him, making his breath hitch like that. How gorgeous his cock was and how much he desperately wanted to have it inside him.

Clint removed his jeans and boxers with careful movements, slid a condom on and slicked Bucky up before mounting him and riding him like a champ. Words flowed free and easy from his lips and Bucky listened as best he could as he got lost in the rhythm of things. If Clint was using lines he couldn't tell, everything spilling from his mouth sounded like the truth and it made Bucky feel things he hadn't in a long time.

It wasn't quite good enough though, he wasn't quite there, and neither was Clint, so Bucky sat up, changing the angle abruptly, his hand digging into Clint's back. Clint, whose eyes snapped open then rolled back in ecstasy as he let out a startled moan because Bucky was now hitting his prostate with every thrust. A moment later and Clint was coming with a shout and Bucky kept thrusting until he was spilling into the condom inside Clint. Panting heavily he fell backwards onto the bed, Clint following, his arms giving out after a second’s pause so that he collapsed with a whump onto Bucky's chest. He rolled to the side and they sat staring at the ceiling for a moment before they both laughed and looked at one another.

“Now that, was a good fucking,” Clint said, color still high in his face. He looked amazing post-coital. “Sorry about your shirt though.”

“Not a big deal – no one at home to judge.” And there wasn't. He didn't even have a pet.

“Get a dog – great companion, no judgment.” Clint advised. And Bucky said he would think about it. They shot the breeze for a while, Clint naked the entire time and Bucky...Bucky tried not to stare too much even though he knew he could and that Clint wouldn't care. That he didn't mind. That any number of people could see him naked like that on a given night and it would be just another day.

He told himself that that didn't bother him. That Clint was safe and careful and made good money. That they had a business arrangement, not a friendship, and either way that it didn't matter.

Once home, Bucky fingered the stain on his shirt before tossing it in the wash, his mind filled with the image of Clint's face when he came.

  

~~

  

Their weekly meetings now included the occasional stop at a motel where Clint would let Bucky fuck him until they were both spent, too tired to talk, just basking in the afterglow of amazing sex. The talking the rest of the time was just as enjoyable and just as healing as it had been and Bucky's new therapist, which he'd switched to not long after their first time together, couldn't help commenting on how well Bucky was doing. Told him to keep up whatever it was he was doing in his free time that was making him so happy.

He didn't have the heart to tell her he was seeing a hooker. He was pretty sure she'd find that rather questionable if not unhealthy. Tell him he didn't have to pay for intimacy. But by this point Bucky didn't know what he would do if he couldn't see Clint.

  

~~

  

“Wait...” Bucky said as Clint went to remove his own shirt. “I um...Can...can you fuck me this time?”

“You sure about that?” Clint asked, setting his shirt off to the side.

“Yes, I've wanted it since that first time.” And Bucky had no idea what to think when Clint closed his eyes briefly and took a deep breath, licking his lips before opening his eyes again and fixing Bucky with an unreadable expression.

“Okay...okay. How uh, how naked do you want to be?”

“I think...I think all of it. That is...if you won't be bothered...

Clint leaned in and stopped Bucky talking by kissing him.

They'd discussed kissing at one point while lounging after a round of orgasms and Clint had confessed that, “It's a little Pretty Woman of me, but I tend not to do it with customers. I mean sure, a few will pay extra for it and I've got one lady that all she wants to do is kiss and neck with me, but in general...” He'd paused and looked a little dreamy. “Most don't care and I feel like it's something that I need to keep for myself, something I'd only do with someone I wanted to do it with. Something to keep for my partner, if I ever get one.”

Kissing Clint was a amazing. It felt like coming home after a long time away, comforting and cozy. Only...it didn't need to be cozy and that didn't last because kissing Clint also stoked a fire within Bucky that he'd never felt before with anyone. Like if he stopped kissing him he might die, that if they didn't get naked together soon the world might end and he had no idea how it happened but soon Clint was laying him out naked on his back on the bed.

“Look at you James, so fucking gorgeous. I can't even-” Clint mouthed his way down Bucky's neck and onto his chest.

“Bucky,” he panted out and Clint raised his eyes in confusion. “My nickname – Bucky.”

“Bucky,” Clint echoed and Bucky felt his erection twitch. “Oh fuck, Bucky.” They kissed, filthy and deep. “Gonna make you feel so fucking good Bucky.”

Bucky ran his hands up and down Clint's back as they kissed, dueling back and forth for control. Bucky grasped at Clint's ass, played with his nipples, he couldn't get enough of touching Clint and Clint seemed to love it, moaning and gasping and touching every inch of Bucky's skin in return.

Clint's prep of Bucky was tortuously slow and thorough and he was writhing for him, begging for it before Clint finally obliged and slid home with a pleasured groan. They moved together with practiced ease, alternating kissing and panting into one another's mouths until they stuttered at the peak and came together.

In the aftermath, as Bucky struggled to catch his breath, he realized he had a major problem on his hands. Because every time his eyes strayed to Clint he had to fight everything inside of himself so that he didn't end up saying 'I love you.'

  

~~

  

The revelation distracted Bucky to the point that he didn't seek out Clint's company for the rest of the week. His therapist even noticed his distraction and he had to scramble to come up with an excuse where he didn't admit what was really bothering him. Namely, how did you move from paying for sex to maybe asking that guy out?

The thing of it was, the money was really an afterthought at this point. He was pretty sure (and a small part of him knew he was likely lying to himself) that Clint enjoyed spending time with him as much as he did with Clint. He'd forgotten once or twice to pay and Clint hadn't even minded, letting him make it up the next time they saw each other.

That had to mean something, right?

The distraction and nerves were so bad that Bucky didn't even go to Clint the following Wednesday after group – the night that they always saw each other ever since that first one months ago. He felt like shit for it and was in such a rush the following day to make up for it that he nearly got a speeding ticket on his way over. Of course, when he got there Clint was nowhere to be seen. And okay, maybe he was with another client. Bucky could be patient. Only an hour ticked by and then another and then, before he realized it, the sun was coming up and he'd spent the entire night in his car, waiting for a glimpse of Clint.

He called out of work and spent the day nervously trying to sleep and convince himself that nothing bad had happened to Clint. Maybe he took a day off now and then. Another thought occurred to him and that was the one that made sleep difficult – that even though he hadn't said it to Clint the week prior, Clint had read something in his face or eyes and no longer wanted anything to do with Bucky.

Love wasn't part of the bargain, theirs was just a business arrangement.

  

~~

  

That evening Bucky had been at the corner for an hour with no sign of Clint before a young man approached his car. “Hey man, looking for something?”

“Someone actually and no offe-” he began to say before a second young man approached and smacked the first on the shoulder.

“Dude! No poaching – that's Clint's man.”

“Yeah well Clint ain't here is he?” the first grumbled as he shuffled off to head around the corner to find another mark.

Clint's man. That had to mean something, right?

“Hey dude, Clint's not here.”

“I noticed,” Bucky replied, chewing on his lip briefly before figuring what the hell. “Do you know where I can find him?”

“He's sick dude – you're gonna hafta wait.”

Sick... Bucky felt a horrible rush of relief that it wasn't something he'd done that was keeping Clint away. But then he stopped and thought about it. Did Clint have the time and money to get something like a flu shot? Spending his nights in and out of the cold couldn't be good for him. And it wasn't like he had anyone to help him take care of himself, did he?

“Does he have anyone looking after him?”

“Clint? Nah, not really. Hey – did you really just give him those gloves and that jacket?”

“Yeah.” Was this guy going to ask Bucky for something like that? Maybe he could barter his way into getting Clint's address...

“You worried about him, huh?”

“I am,” he replied with a helpless little shrug. Hopefully this guy was at least half as good as Clint at reading people and would be able to tell Bucky was serious about just wanting to help Clint.

“Okay dude, you better not be a fucking psycho or something – I know your car okay? Clint gets hurt...”

“I don't want to hurt him, I just want to make sure he has supplies. Soup and cough drops and stuff.”

“Yeah...yeah I think that you do. Okay.” The guy rattled off an address not terribly far away and Bucky slipped him some money for his trouble and drove off, keeping an eye out for an open pharmacy along the way.

  

~~

  

Bucky slipped into Clint's building when another tenant was exiting and he made his way up to Clint's apartment on the fourth floor more confident than he had been in over a week. It didn't matter right now how he felt about Clint and how Clint might've felt about him – Clint needed his help. They could figure out whatever it was between them, if it was anything, when Clint was feeling better.

“Jaam—Bucky?” Bucky felt a moment of elation when Clint recalled his preferred name, but only a moment because the Clint that answered the door looked like absolute shit.

“Don't worry, I'm here to take care of you okay?” He said, ushering Clint into the – well, it wasn't horribly dirty but it wasn't clean either, apartment and shutting the door. Clint collapsed on an old but sturdy couch and watched with the vague look only the truly sick get as Bucky carried bags past him to place on the bar that separated his kitchen from the main room of the apartment.

“You feel like you've got a pretty bad fever, can you hold this under your tongue for me while I run you a bath?” he asked, removing a thermometer from the packaging.

“How did you find me?” Clint asked, accepting the thermometer but not putting it in his mouth.

“Got directions.”

“Why....” Bucky opened a door to find a closet. “Bathroom's upstairs. Why are you doing this?” Clint called after him before finally putting the thermometer in his mouth.

“Because someone has to,” Bucky replied ducking into the bathroom. It was small, but clean, save for the overflowing tissues in the garbage. Clint'd been sick for at least a few days then. He tested the water and plugged the drain when the temperature was to his liking, adding some salts to the bath that he'd grabbed at the bodega down the street. Hopefully they, combined with the steam, would help open Clint's sinuses.

Bucky left the water running as he went down the stairs from the loft to grab towels from the linen closet he'd found earlier and to grab the thermometer from Clint's mouth. 101. Not the best, not the worst. He grabbed a new box of Kleenex as well as a sports drink and guided Clint up the stairs, instructing him to strip down while he turned the taps off and emptied the garbage into a larger bag.

Bucky had Clint drink about half of the sports drink and climb into the bath, giving him instructions to breathe as deeply as possible and set out to see what state his bedroom was in.

A disaster zone was the answer and it took him longer than he'd like to clean up the dirty clothes and tissues and other detritus from the floor - and the bed - and the nightstands. Once that was done he changed out the sheets and cracked the window open just a tad for some fresh air.

Clint was still blinking slowly when Bucky went back to check on him but seemed okay enough and he went back downstairs to clean up the kitchen and put the kettle on the stove. By the time it was ready he'd gone back up for Clint, helped him towel off and slip into clean sweats and a t-shirt and settled him into the bed. A quick trip back down to the kitchen produced some cup of soup that Clint barely managed to drink before nodding off, the warmth from the bath and the food putting him out like a light.

As he slept, Bucky cleaned the rest of the apartment and put away the groceries he'd purchased before curling up on the couch and nodding off himself – the lack of sleep from the day and night before finally getting the better of him.

  

~~

  

“Huh...didn't hallucinate cause of the fever,” Clint said, rousing Bucky from sleep the following morning. He opened his eyes to find Clint sitting on the floor next to the couch looking at him with a perplexed expression, his hair sticking up every which way from restless sleep. His eyes looked a little clearer than the night before and Bucky hoped that meant the fever had broken.

“How you feeling?”

“Better – did you really ninja your way to my place to take care of me and clean the place?”

“I wouldn't say it was very ninja of me,” Bucky said as he sat up. Clint stood and then swayed a bit, sitting with a humph as he landed next to Bucky. “Ears?”

“Plugged like nobody's business,” Clint replied, eyes intent on Bucky's lips. Was he reading them? “Why?”

“I told you, someone had to. You said you lived alone, remember? Being sick alone sucks.” Bucky stood, stretching until his back cracked. He could feel Clint's eyes on him. “I'm going to make oatmeal and some tea.”

“Coffee?”

“Tea,” Bucky reiterated, smiling at the disgruntled noise Clint made as he made his way to the kitchen.

He put the kettle on the stovetop again and grabbed two mugs and bowls and setting them on the table, just in the nick of time as it turned out because Clint had followed him into the kitchen without him noticing.

“Where the fuck did all this come from?” Clint asked, strangely, though he was surprised Bucky didn't jump. He also didn't feel weird at all when Clint leaned a little weight on him on his way past when another dizzy spell hit him.

“Sit,” Bucky instructed, hands on Clint's hips as he guided him down into a chair. “Eat,” followed a moment later as he set out the box of assorted instant oatmeal and took the kettle off the stove.

“You ever gonna tell me why?” Clint asked as he stirred his oatmeal, then took a sip of his tea.

“I've told you a few times.”

“S'not a reason. If not for you I'da made it through just fine. Li’l more grungy, sure, but fine.”

“Well you didn't need to do it alone and I like being able to help a friend.”

Clint was quiet for a moment, not eating, just...thinking. Staring into space. “Is that what I am to you?”

Bucky sighed through his nose and willed himself not to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Instead, he grabbed some cold medicine and slid it over towards Clint.

“Bucky.”

The sound of his preferred name in Clint's voice, unslurred by sickness, sounding familiar and a little annoyed, made him feel things he probably shouldn't be and he was more than a little afraid that was showing on his face.

“I um... I'd like to think that even with... With our arrangements...that maybe we-” Another sigh. “Maybe we could be or sort of are friends? I know I probably shouldn't-”

“You're right. You shouldn't.” Clint replied, voice oddly subdued.

The oatmeal he'd managed to eat already suddenly felt like lead in his stomach and Bucky couldn't even manage to take a sip from his own tea like he'd intended to. “I see.” Well, this was a fucking nightmare and he should probably go. “You uh – you don't have to wor-”

“You shouldn't think like that, but you can.” Clint was quick to say and Bucky slowly settled back in his chair, backing down from 'panic' and 'get away.' “This thing between us-” Clint laughed, though it didn't sound like he'd found anything particularly funny. “It's always been a little more than just a business thing I think.”

“I don't want to pay to have sex with you anymore,” Bucky blurted out, face heating. In for a penny...

“I don't want you to have to pay to have sex with me anymore,” Clint replied and oh – there was his smile. Bucky fucking loved that smile.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The looks they exchanged were shy but full of hope and maybe, just a little bit of love.

“You wanna go upstairs and nap the day away with me?” Clint asked a moment later when they'd both finished their food. Bucky nodded eagerly and made short work of cleaning up, setting the bowls in the sink and helping Clint back up the stairs where they ended up curling up together in the bed.

“I love you,” Bucky whispered some time later, when he was sure Clint was asleep. His heart leapt into his throat however when Clint's eye's cracked open to look at his and stayed there even as Clint's lips curled into a content smile.

“Course you do,” he replied and Bucky relaxed a little because Clint was probably half asleep and maybe he could get away with him thinking he dreamed it until - “Love you too,” Clint murmured as his eyes slipped back shut and he snuggled closer.

The oddest feeling swept through Bucky's body and it took him several minutes, during which Clint's breathing evened out in his slumber, to identify it.

Contentment. What he was feeling was contentment.

As Bucky allowed himself to drift back into sleep he wondered just how he was going to explain his new boyfriend to his therapist. Well... there were worse things in life, as he well knew.

Hopefully all of that was behind him now.

  

  

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me at [redsector-a](http://redsector-a.tumblr.com/) on tumblr for some writing, some complaining, and lots of reblogged nonsense!


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